Girl Alone: Part 3 of 3: Joss came home from school to discover her father’s suicide. Angry and hurting, she’s out of control.. Cathy Glass
at school. I was angry the whole time, even with my teachers. I felt like everyone was against me. And I stayed away from the house as much as possible. It wasn’t my home any more. I began hanging around the streets. It felt safer on the streets in the dark with strangers than it did at home.’ She stopped. ‘Oh, Cathy,’ she suddenly cried. ‘If only my dad hadn’t died, none of this would have happened. I feel so alone.’
I put my arm around her and comforted her as best I could while she cried. Did I believe her? Yes, I did. The childlike details and the logic in what she’d said convinced me she was telling the truth. My thoughts went to all the times Joss had referred to Eric as a creep, and I knew now it wasn’t just name-calling. Why hadn’t I picked up on this sooner? I should have done. But there had been so many issues with Joss it had slipped through the net. Her hatred of Eric should have been another indicator – a clue I’d missed. She didn’t hate him because he was trying to replace her father; she hated him because he’d been abusing her. With a sinking heart I remembered I’d actually defended Eric and had told Joss he was probably being nice to her because he was trying to build a relationship. How insensitive and inappropriate that sounded now! I also remembered that when I’d met him he’d told me he wanted to foster, and my stomach heaved. That would have given him a steady supply of children to abuse. Then another horrendous thought struck me.
‘Joss,’ I said, holding her close, ‘has Eric abused Kevin?’
‘I don’t think so,’ she said, raising her head slightly and sniffing. ‘I think it was just me.’
But, of course, she couldn’t be sure.
She straightened and looked at me, her eyes red and her cheeks stained with tears. ‘Do you believe me?’ she asked, her voice shaking. ‘Do you see why Mum changed her mind about Zach?’
‘Yes, I do, love. I can see why, and I believe you.’
‘Oh, thank you, Cathy!’ she cried, and threw her arms around me.
I held her for some time. She’d said ‘other stuff’ had happened too, but it wasn’t for me to question her now. I needed to leave that for the police.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner,’ she said through her tears. ‘I should have told you – I nearly did a few times, but I was worried you’d think I was lying, like Mum did.’
‘It’s all right,’ I said. I stroked her hair. ‘I understand why you couldn’t tell me. You’ve been very brave to tell me now.’
‘Will I have to talk to the police again?’ she asked. ‘I’m so tired. I just want to go to bed.’
‘You will have to talk to them at some point, but I don’t think it has to be tonight.’
‘Can I go to bed?’
I nodded and helped her stand – she was exhausted and drained from the emotion of crying and reliving the abuse. She leant heavily against me and we went upstairs. I saw her to her bedroom and left her to change while I went to my bedroom. I wanted to telephone Homefinders for confirmation that Joss wouldn’t have to talk to the police straight away. I explained what had happened to the member of staff on duty, and she said she’d speak to the duty social worker at the social services and then call me back. I went to Joss’s room to tell her, but she was already in bed asleep, her clothes in a tumbled pile by her bed, left where they’d fallen as she’d taken them off. I tucked her in, came out and went downstairs to wait for the telephone call from Homefinders. It was nearly 1 a.m. by the time they phoned and said the social worker had confirmed that, as Joss wasn’t in any immediate danger, the social services would initiate action the following morning, so there was no need to go to the police station tonight. I thanked her and went to bed.
The next day would be Monday, and it was the last day of the summer holidays before school returned for the autumn term. Normally, I would do something a little special with the family for the last day – lunch out, swimming or a similar activity – but I knew that was out of the question now. Tomorrow would be given over to supporting Joss as the social services and police began their investigations into her new claim of abuse. As I lay in the dark, tired but unable to sleep, I wondered how Linda would react now that it was out in the open. Would she still refuse to believe Joss? Or would doubt start to creep in to her previously unshakeable belief in her husband? Or – the worst-case scenario – had she known all along? Certainly she had failed to protect Joss, and questions would be asked.
Chapter Twenty
Having had little sleep, I was up but not dressed at 7.30 the following morning when the doorbell rang. Surprised and apprehensive at an early morning visitor, I checked the security spyhole first. To my horror, two uniformed police officers stood at my door. Oh, hell! I thought. I was in my dressing gown and Joss wasn’t even awake yet. I unlocked and opened the door.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, embarrassed. ‘I wasn’t expecting you so early. Joss isn’t up. Come in.’
‘Early morning is usually a good time to catch young people, before they head off out,’ one of the officers said with a smile as they came in. ‘We made this our first call of the shift. Looks like we’ve been lucky again.’
I thought his smile and casual approach was inappropriate considering they were here to take a statement from a victim of sexual abuse. Linda had said that Ann had been lovely at the station. It was a pity she hadn’t come.
‘This is PC Mike Salmon and I’m Joe Davies,’ he said.
‘Come and have a seat in the living room,’ I said, leading the way down the hall. ‘I’ll wake Joss now.’ I thought that, while I was upstairs, I’d also quickly put on some clothes.
‘Has she been behaving herself, then?’ Joe Davies asked. Both officers stood with their feet apart in the centre of the living room, looking around. I nodded. ‘You’re Joss’s foster carer, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘Linda told us we’d find her here.’
‘That’s right. But I don’t understand. You’ve been there? We gave this address at the station.’
‘It’s possible they have it, but Mike and I were given it by her mother a while back. We weren’t busy this morning, so we thought we’d follow it up. Do you want to fetch Joss now and get it over and done with?’
I took a step towards the living-room door and then stopped. ‘Sorry. Why have you come to see Joss?’ I asked.
It was their turn to look confused. ‘Apologies, I thought you knew. She was in the vicinity of a car that was set on fire a few weeks back. I’ve got the exact date here.’ He took out his notepad.
‘It’s OK,’ I said. I understood now. I returned to the centre of the room. ‘You obviously aren’t aware that Joss reported a serious sexual assault at the weekend. I thought you were here to interview her about that.’
Their expressions immediately changed and grew serious.
‘We didn’t know,’ Mike said. ‘That’s a separate unit. This weekend?’
‘Yes.’
He exchanged a glance with his colleague. ‘We’ll confirm it with the station, but I think we should probably leave this enquiry for now.’ Joe nodded. ‘We’ll call them from the car and let you know what’s decided.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. I followed them down the hall and saw them out.
As soon as I’d closed the front door I quickly ran upstairs and put on some clothes. My bedroom is at the front of the house and, once dressed, I discreetly looked out through my bedroom window. The police car was parked on the opposite side of the road and I could see the officers in the front talking on their radio, presumably to someone at the police station. The children hadn’t woken, so I returned downstairs where I made a quick coffee, which I took into